


Does laughter still discover you?

by Orchidaexa



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Hedonist Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orchidaexa/pseuds/Orchidaexa
Summary: Crowley spanks Aziraphale. That's it, that's the fic.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	Does laughter still discover you?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hedonism (Just Because You Feel Good) by Skunk Anansie.
> 
> Originally written for an abandoned kinktober.

"You know," Crowley mused, as he traced his fingernails over pink skin, "most people view this as some sort of punishment." He ignored the sharp intake of breath as nails cut crescent moon marks in plush skin, before bringing his hand back down sharply on Aziraphale's rump. 

The angel twisted in his grasp, cock rubbing against Crowley’s leg. Blue eyes peered through fluttering lashes, and Crowley met his gaze. 

"I'm hardly at fault for enjoying a wonderful orgasm, dearest." Aziraphale's voice had that indulgent edge, like a rich chocolate cake, or a well prepared scallop. 

Crowley closed his eyes to steady himself as his cunt twitched. " _ Most  _ people don't orgasm when they get spanked,  _ angel _ ." 

There was a soft huff of something that sounded like laughter, and Aziraphale deliberately twitched his hips against Crowley, smearing precum across a muscular thigh. The tang of salt drifted in the air, skin slicked with perspiration. That neither Crowley nor Aziraphale  _ needed _ to perspire didn't mean they couldn't indulge in the more base of bodily functions. Besides, they had both gotten into the habit some time around 3200BC, as things like forgetting to perspire or breathe tended to attract the wrong kind of attention. 

"Then they are missing out." Aziraphale was prim, proper, and didn't sound at all like Crowley had spanked him to that arousal. It was rather unfair, since Crowley's arousal tended to be marked with hissing.

Speaking of which. "You bloody hedonist," he said, inserting sibilants where they shouldn't really even exist. Aziraphale tilted his head in curiosity, and rubbed that thickened length against Crowley's thigh again. 

"That's hardly a surprise to you, my dear boy," Aziraphale said, rolling his hips again. "Now will you get back to spanking me?" 

Crowley's smile may have been more teeth than warmth, and really, if Aziraphale had been  _ looking _ , it may have caused some concern, but now Crowley was wet and he could feel the damp slicking the fabric of the sofa. It was really rather lucky they didn't have to clean that by hand, really. It was no secret that Aziraphale indulged in any and all sensation-- Crowley could tease and indulge and Aziraphale would lap it all up like an opera or a wonderful meal. Pain or no pain, teasing sensations of hot and cold, feathers and fur and leather and rope. 

And Aziraphale could take that sensation. He craved it, craved the link to his corporation, enjoyed every second. Crowley considered this, turned it over in his mind as he smoothed long fingers over the pink flush that had already risen in the angel's buttocks. He indulged in the way the heat warmed his cool skin, and the way his fingertips sunk into that hot flesh, before lifting his hand away. 

Aziraphale gave a distinctly needy murmur that seemed trapped in his throat, and Crowley let the angel twitch his hips upward again before swiftly bringing his hand down with a sharp slap. It didn't stop, Crowley raining his hand down on alternating cheeks, bringing the pink to a brighter, more fluorescent tone. Aziraphale, for his part, let out loud moans, kicking his legs out, squirming. 

"If you don't  _ stop _ , I shall have to tie you down." It had been intended as a threat but Crowley didn't miss the way Aziraphale's cock twitched at that, and he rather suspected that should he meet the angel's gaze, he would find arousal blowing the pupils out, would find Aziraphale's mouth slackened, and Crowley roughly shoved a hand between the shoulder blades of his soft lover, pushing him so that the fabric met Aziraphale's cheek. 

Crowley resumed the flurry of slaps on the pale flesh, and Aziraphale twitched and moaned, letting out overwhelmed gasps. Crowley could tell when he was getting close, muscles beginning to twitch in the most uncoordinated of patterns, heart alternating between forgetting to beat and hammering with rabbit fast pulse. The hitches of breath got louder, closer to whimpers as Aziraphale kicked a leg out, Crowley unrelenting in his movements. The slap of a slender hand on voluptuous cheeks continued as Aziraphale twitched his hips and let out a reedy, high pitched moan, rutting against Crowley's leg. 

Eventually, every muscle in Aziraphale's body tensed, and Crowley pressed his thigh upwards, against Aziraphale's cock, feeling the thick and wet seed coat his leg, length pulsing, his hand dropping to fondle gently fuzzed balls. 

"Yeah?" Crowley queried, breathless. It never ceased to amaze him that Aziraphale came so much from overwhelming sensation. 

“Yes, my dearest,” breathed Aziraphale, twisting to rest his forehead on the sofa.

Crowley smiled.


End file.
